


falling for someone who's fading

by romansilver



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Kurooaka Week, Kurooaka Week 2017, Multi, Supernatural Elements, akaashi is a light mage, although he does magic exactly once, and ukai, daichi shows up for like 1 second, i guess, so does suga, suicide and death are major themes so be careful folks, this is a vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-12 13:15:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10491681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romansilver/pseuds/romansilver
Summary: akaashi fades away and kuroo can't do anything about itand then it happens againand againfor kurooaka week day 5: helplessness





	

**Author's Note:**

> this is a vent fic (kind of) so there's a lot of negativity
> 
> there's talk of suicide, especially at the beginning, and death is a major theme (though no one dies) so be careful

It was raining, because every life changing event in stories always happened when it was raining. Kuroo pulled his jacket over his head, shielding himself from the droplets which threatened to soak him to the bone, chilling him. He’d probably get a cold from it, Kenma not looking at him while he complained. “Bring an umbrella," he would say, and Kuroo would gripe about how he couldn’t control the weather. Kuroo grinned at the thought. He broke into a jog, making his way to the bridge on his way home.

The cobblestones of the bridge’s walking path were slick, and Kuroo cursed the architecture of the city as he slipped, landing on his back as the water took its opportunity to seep through his shirt. He began to pick himself up again, straightening his back as he squinted through the rain at the silhouette sitting on the railing of the bridge. Who would want to spend time out here, in this freezing rain? 

Kuroo made his way to the railing, leaning against it a few feet from his company. The person didn’t look at him. Kuroo couldn’t make out much about the person next to him. They spent a few moments like that, four feet apart, the cold rain soaking Kuroo’s forearms where he rested against them. “You might fall if you stay up there,” Kuroo said. The person didn’t look at him. “I’m supposed to,” came the response, and Kuroo sucked in a sharp breath. “Oh,” he breathed out.

“What do you mean you’re supposed to fall?” Kuroo asked, heart racing, shocked and confused and worried. The other man sighed, clearly not in the mood for conversation. “Don’t worry about it,” he said, voice emotionless, flat. Kuroo frowned. “What do you mean, don’t worry about it? How am I supposed to not worry about it?” he asked, feeling frustration and confusion and fear set it. “It’s not your problem,” came the brief reply. 

Kuroo stood, speechless, afraid and worried and more than anything he wanted this to end, for the other man to jump down and walk away and that would be the end of it. But the man didn’t. Kuroo sighed deeply, moved closer. “Are you asking me to leave you here?” he ventured, suddenly nervous about startling the other man. “Yes.” “Well, no.” Kuroo was close enough to see the glare the other man gave him. “I’m not leaving you here! Why would I do that?” Kuroo exclaimed, nerves frayed. 

“Because it’s not your problem.” “What’s that supposed to mean? Do you really think someone would just leave you behind after you say something like that?” Kuroo’s throat constricted, his heart pounding so hard he could hear it. He felt like he was gonna be sick. The other man sighed. “Yes,” was his simple response. Kuroo let out a strangled sob, the sound ugly to his own ears. “Why?” he managed to gasp out, his body feeling heavy and his eyes hot, itchy. He tried to blink back tears.

“Never mind that. Are you alright?” the other man said, the first hint of emotion in his voice, urgency lacing the words. Kuroo was crying now, choked up, and it was hard to breathe, hard to think straight. He felt a hand on his head, gentle and unsure. Kuroo didn’t respond, too lost in emotions he could describe. “Why are you crying?” his company said, voice gentle, almost as if he was trying to soothe him. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?!” Kuroo snapped, and the other man reared back, shocked and confused. “You’re here, telling me, telling me-“ Kuroo couldn’t get the rest out, the words a lump in his throat he couldn’t swallow and he couldn’t spit out. “That I’m going to die,” the other man supplied, and Kuroo sobbed again, overwhelmed and scared. He didn’t know why he was so scared about this, but the fear clawed at him, a weight in his stomach and a sharp pain in his chest.

The other man didn’t say anything after that, waited quietly as Kuroo regained his composure, loud, ugly sobs fading into quiet weeping, until Kuroo was still crying but he could breathe. The other man reached out a hand, to brush away Kuroo’s soaked hair from his face. Kuroo sighed, burying his head into his crossed arms, exhausted and tired. He didn’t know how long he had been crying, just that his throat was rubbed raw from broken sobbing and his eyes heavy.

“Are you alright?” the other man spoke, and Kuroo lifted his head only to shake it. No, he wasn’t alright. The other man sighed. “I’m sorry,” he said, and Kuroo looked up at him. “Are you?” he questioned, quiet and scratchy. The other man nodded. “I was told I was going to die today,” the man continued, as if divulging some very personal secret. “And you went with it?” Kuroo asked, shivering both from the cold clothing sticking to his skin and fear, anger. “They’ve never been wrong before,” the man continued. 

“What are they, some kind of prophet?” Kuroo grumbled, angry and frustrated but so, so tired. The other man shrugged. “It’s inevitable. I’m helpless to stop it,” he continued, and Kuroo managed a weak glare. “But thank you for your concern. I appreciate it.” Kuroo waited for the man to say something else, but no words came. He sighed. “That’s bullshit,” he grumbled. His companion sighed. 

“It’s late,” he said. “There’s not much left to do but wait for the end.” Kuroo groaned, wanting to latch his hand onto the stranger, anchor him in place. But he was afraid that would ruin whatever delicate balance they had struck up. “This isn’t how I wanted to end my night,” Kuroo griped. “Then leave,” the other man said. Kuroo’s head shot up. He glared at the other man, perched on the railing. “Not until you get down from there,” he snapped, and the other man sighed. 

“What time is it?” he asked, and Kuroo frowned, pulling out his phone. “Uh,” he said, blinking at the numbers as he tried to reorient himself. “11:26 PM.” The other man sighed. “It’ll happen soon,” he said, quietly, almost to himself. “No, it won’t,” Kuroo insisted, fed up and upset. “I’m helpless to stop it. So are you.” It was blunt, almost tired sounding. Kuroo hated it. 

He wanted to reach out to the other man, try to believe this was real, it was happening. But there were some boundaries Kuroo was unwilling to break, so he slumped further down, focusing on the world around him. Fog was coming up from the river in front of him. the sky was covered in dark grey clouds, but the rain had stopped.

“When did the rain stop?” Kuroo mused, only half-aware that he was speaking out loud. “While you were sobbing,” came a brief reply. Kuroo sighed, getting teary-eyed again. “I think I might cry again,” he complained, and he heard a deep, weary sigh to his right. “I’m sorry to put you through this,” came a quiet, sad response. Kuroo wanted to get angry, wanted to yell and complain, but instead he just felt tears, cold and sticky, on his cheeks. He didn’t have the energy to muster up indignation and offense. He reflected on the other man’s words. Was he really that helpless?

“Thank you.” The words startled Kuroo out of his thoughts. “For what?” he asked. “I did- wait. Are you fading?” The other man sighed. “Yes. I told you, I was meant to die today.” Kuroo’s eyes widened. “This isn’t fair, though! What the fuck is going on?” He blinked, trying to focus on the other man. It got harder and harder, as the other man become less and less distinguishable. “You’re a good person,” came the voice of someone who was there just a few seconds ago. “You’ll have a good life.”

Kuroo let out a short, sharp breath. “You can’t just say that and expect everything to be okay! You can’t just fade away and expect me to be okay with it!” He felt angry, felt frustrated and lost and helpless. He waited for a response, for anything. Nothing came. Kuroo rubbed his eyes. He trudged home, following a known course. Nothing that had happened had made sense. It must have been a dream, a mirage.

~~~~

Akaashi felt regret. He felt a deep remorse for leaving on that note. He felt himself disappear, be undone. He couldn’t do anything to stop it. But, with the angry, confused shouts of that evening’s company behind him, the other man’s voice ringing with an inexplicable, indecipherable emotion, Akaashi, moments away from his own disappearance, wished he could.

~~~~

It was still raining. Kuroo woke up with his head pounding, weary and dazed. He rubbed his eyes, trying to recall why, exactly, he was sleeping on the floor of his apartment, still in the t-shirt that consisted of his work uniform. His clothes were still damp from the night before. He groaned, looking at the time on the clock that hung crooked on the wall. 11:45 AM. He dragged himself to the bathroom for a shower, still trying to orient himself, get a good idea of what had led him to this point in time, put him in this situation. 

Kuroo let the water run down his back, hoping that the warmth of it would alleviate the chill still felt. He was grateful he had no classes today. He could take his time preparing for volleyball practice, avoid the rain that he knew was still there, prepare for the inevitable cold he had gotten as a result of sleeping in wet clothing. He decided to wash his hair.

Memories hit him all at once. He could sense that he had dropped the bottle of shampoo, feel it hit him in the foot, but the sensation felt far away. Everything came back, a stranger sitting on the railing of the bridge on his way home. Pain in his chest and lead in his stomach at the man’s words, which were just out of reach of his memory, hanging in front of him like fruit in front of Tantalus, retreating just out of reach when he chased them. 

He could remember that he felt angry, and bitter, and hurt and scared, so, so scared. Everything had felt wrong then. He remembered one word, repeated over and over if he tried to think too hard. “Helpless.” Kuroo closed his eyes, took deep breaths to quell the rising emotions that threatened to spill over.

He moved like a machine, focused only on the task ahead. He didn’t think too hard, trying to avoid the profound feeling of wrongness that followed him like his own shadow, threatening to swallow him whole. Everything felt eerie when he thought of it, and he felt as if he was remembering something he shouldn’t be, clinging to something that no longer belonged to him. He groaned again, checking the time. 2:57 PM. Volleyball practice started at 3. It was the highlight of Kuroo’s day. How had he forgotten?

Apparently, Kuroo wasn’t the only one could sense how out of sorts Kuroo felt. “You’re late,” Ukai chastised the moment Kuroo made his entrance into their gym. Kuroo nodded. “Yeah, sorry,” he said. Ukai didn’t say anything after that, a distinct difference from the other times Kuroo had been late. It added to the eerie feeling Kuroo had, as if something was horribly wrong.

Bokuto threw an arm over his shoulder after their first set, pulling him aside. “Are you alright, bro?” he asked, voice unusually quiet. Kuroo only frowned, unable to comprehend whether he was or not. It only added to the apprehension in his stomach. Bokuto sighed, pulling Kuroo close. ‘I don’t know what’s wrong,” he said, “but it’ll get better.” Kuroo closed his eyes, took a deep breath. “Yeah,” he said, breaking out into a grin that made him feel hollow, but also more real. “I’m just having a bad day.” 

He ruffled Bokuto’s hair, smiling wider when Kuroo tried to bat it away. “Do you know how much time I spend on this?” he griped, and Kuroo smirked. “It only takes a few seconds to stick a fork into a light socket,” Kuroo teased, and Bokuto narrowed his eyes at him. “I don’t want to hear it from the guy who doesn’t even try to fix his hair,” he shot back, and Kuroo cackled at him before Ukai called the end of break. Kuroo felt better, somehow.

Practice ended sooner than Kuroo would have liked. He packed up his stuff with an unusual reluctance, stood in the foyer for just a moment to look back at the empty gym, before heading out into the drizzle. Immediately an overwhelming sense of purpose, of longing, and of inexplicable otherworldliness overcame him. He felt almost helpless to stop it, instead following his instincts through the streets lit by flickering lamps, everything around him a blur as he made his way through the streets. His thoughts were nothing but a blur of “Hurry! Before it’s too late!”

He only managed to reorient himself when his desperation faded into an ache in his chest. He blinked, slowly recognizing the place as the bridge from last night, the cobblestones still slick with rain, the lights from around him still distorted through rain and fog. He moved forward, intent on seeing if the stranger from yesterday was still perched on the railing.

He was. Kuroo approached him slowly, carefully, as if everything would disappear if he made a wrong move. His first words sounded sharp, even to his own ears. “You’re not dead.” The stranger visibly flinched, and Kuroo felt almost guilty about it. “A fluke,” came the reply, soft, sad, gentle. “Is it?” Kuroo questioned. The stranger nodded. 

“Well, it might happen again,” Kuroo said, feeling lighter than he had since he left the gym. The blunt, hopeless tone in the other man’s reply only spread lead through Kuroo’s veins, crushed his hope. “It won’t. I know it won’t.” He felt anger and bitterness run through him. “How do you know?” Kuroo snapped, brittle and resentful. He felt bad about it immediately, even more so when the other man only hung his head. 

“I’m sorry,” Kuroo said, trying to sound as gentle and soothing as possible. “I shouldn’t have snapped like that.” The other man sighed, fixing Kuroo with a look that felt almost mournful, as if he had lost something, but Kuroo just didn’t know what. “It’s fine,” he said, looking away the moment their eyes met. “I’m not making this easy for either of us.” Kuroo sighed, leaning against the railing much as he had last night.

“Will you fade away again?” Kuroo asked, unsure of the question even as if left his mouth. “That’s a possibility,” the other man replied, sounding just as unsure as Kuroo felt. Kuroo wasn’t sure if the other man wanted to talk, but Kuroo had questions. “Why are you so convinced you’ll die?” he asked. His companion shrugged. “I was told I would,” he replied, as if they’d been over this before. It was justified, considering they had.

“Why are you so confident in your prophet?” Kuroo continued. “They’ve never been wrong before,” the stranger sighed. Kuroo frowned, unsatisfied with the response. “So you just accepted it?” he questioned, voice harsher than he meant it to be. This time, his companion didn’t flinch. “There’s no reason to question it. I’m sure it’ll happen.” 

Kuroo hated that answer even more. “Well it didn’t happen last night,” he insisted, knowing he was walking a fine line. The other man didn’t reply right away, and Kuroo was almost certain he had crossed that line. “I told you,” the stranger replied after a few minutes, “it was a fluke.” It was meant to sound dismissive, Kuroo knew, but it sounded more unsure than anything else the man had said during the span of the conversation. 

Kuroo took a deep breath, unsure of his next course of action. He decided to push a bit more, see if he couldn’t fully change this stranger’s mind on his own mortality. “What about what you’re going to leave behind? Your friends?” he questioned. The other man’s hand clenched briefly, and Kuroo knew he had gotten through to him. The stranger relaxed quickly enough though. “They’ll move on,” he said, and Kuroo’s blood boiled.

“Are you sure?!” he exclaimed, rubbing a hand over his face to calm himself down. “Why do you care?” the stranger replied, voice cold as ice, trying to drive Kuroo away. Kuroo wasn’t going to have it. “Maybe I just don’t want you to fade away,” he hissed. “I don’t know why that’s hard for you to understand.” The stranger looked taken aback, and Kuroo could see the brief expression of surprise even through the mist, watching the stranger’s profile, though it retreated back into cool indifference just a second later.

“Thank you for your concern,” the stranger said, voice flat, but slightly airy, as if the stranger was forcing the words out, “but I’m fine.” Kuroo glared at him. “You’re not fine,” he spat. The stranger looked at him, mournful. He reached a hand to brush Kuroo’s hair out of his face. “You’re a good person,” he said, a strange echo of the other night. “But you need to let it go.” 

Kuroo felt shocked, angry, terrified. “No,” he said, his voice sounding broken and sharp even to his own ears. The stranger smiled. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “It’s too late.” And the stranger was fading again, slowly disappearing before Kuroo’s eyes. Kuroo reached out for him, but it was too late. The man was gone.

~~~~

Akaashi felt himself fading, felt himself getting lost in the mist around him, disappearing from time and space. He thought about the man he met, the way he looked desperate and angry and scared, reaching out for Akaashi while Akaashi vanished before his eyes. He felt disappointed, regretful that he had left the stranger so obviously hurt and confused. He wanted to comfort the man. He wished he knew how.

~~~~

Kuroo woke up on his couch, with his clothes still damp. A considerable improvement, he decided, from how he had woken up yesterday. He couldn’t shake that lingering feeling of desperation. He looked at the time. 10:42. He had class in 18 minutes. He stood up from his couch, spending a few moments trying to decide what, exactly, he should do. Changing his clothes and shoving his things haphazardly into his bag, he figured it’d be better to allow himself extra time to get to class.

He couldn’t focus. Everything moved in a blur as he spent more and more time thinking about the last two evenings, trying to hold onto the memories which moved through his mind like butterflies, making it impossible for Kuroo to think about one for too long. Throughout the entirety of his science lecture he tried to piece everything together, ending up with a fairly understandable but still abstract idea of the last two days. 

He moved to practice automatically, entering the gym as he did always. “You’re here early,” Sugawara teased. Kuroo nodded blankly, feeling the comfortable atmosphere of the gym soothe him into feeling less like a ghost himself. “Can I help set up?” he asked, and Suga smiled. “Please,” he said, and Kuroo relaxed, dropping his bag near the bleachers before making his way to the net.

Practice went well. He felt better every time they did a set, every time he blocked a ball. Yaku pulled him aside after practice. “What’s wrong?” he asked. Kuroo frowned. “Nothing,” he said, confused. “You’re not teasing as much. You’re more focused. Something happened.” None of them left room for discussion. “Yeah,” Kuroo said. “I’m still trying to understand it myself,” he confided. Yaku nodded grimly. He said nothing else, leaving Kuroo even more confused.

It wasn’t raining when Kuroo left the gym, but that didn’t stop him from following the same path he had the last few days, crossing streets he couldn’t name until he stopped just before the same cobblestone bridge. He could clearly see the stranger sitting on the railing. He made his way there quickly, quietly, wasting no time to get to the stranger. 

“You’re still here,” he said, bluntly. The stranger nodded. “Another fluke?” he questioned, facetious. “No, it’s something else,” he said, resigned. Kuroo sighed in relief, counting it as progress, though for what he didn’t know. Seemingly sensing Kuroo’s relief, the stranger looked at him. “It doesn’t mean it’s a good thing,” he said, quietly, and Kuroo sighed in frustration. 

There was silence between them. Kuroo looked to his companion briefly, noting that he seemed to be searching for something. Looking away, he gazed at the lights, shimmering on the water of the river below them. “I suppose I should explain things,” the stranger said, and Kuroo smiled despite himself. “Yeah,” he said. “I think that’d be good.”

“Where should I start?” the stranger mused. “How about why exactly you’re here,” Kuroo replied. “We already went over that. Twice.” the stranger shot back. “Okay, so how about you explain why exactly I keep finding my way here,” Kuroo continued. The stranger sighed. “It’s complicated,” was all he said. Kuroo frowned. “I know, that’s why I’m asking,” Kuroo grumbled. The stranger didn’t react. 

“Then how about what you mean by ‘it’s something else,” Kuroo continued. “I wouldn’t worry about that,” the stranger said. “If you’re going to be cryptic about everything, then why are you bothering to explain things?” Kuroo griped. The stranger didn’t say anything, looking away towards the horizon. “What are you looking for?” Kuroo asked, hoping he could at least get a response for that. “Answers,” came the simple reply. “So you offered to explain things without knowing them yourself?” Kuroo questioned.

The stranger looked forward. He didn’t say anything. Kuroo sighed, feeling guilty. If he didn’t know anything, then why should the stranger, either? “I’m sorry, I know you’re trying to help,” he said, resigned and apologetic. The stranger met his eyes, stared him down. Kuroo was momentarily speechless. He could do nothing but stare for a minute, almost awestruck by how beautiful the man next to him was. He felt the urge to give him money for it, before deciding that was absolutely not the best course of action, and what was he thinking? He looked away.

“Thank you,” the stranger said. “For everything.” Kuroo frowned. “‘Everything’ is kind of a broad term, you know,” he said, deigning to look up and meet his companion’s eyes. “But, uh, you’re welcome, I guess.” It felt clumsy as he said it. The stranger gave the briefest, softest of smiles before looking away, leaving Kuroo truly awestruck. Another silence stretched between them, full of uncertainty but no longer charged with Kuroo’s emotions, his fear. 

Kuroo was looking at the river, watching the lights flicker, distorted reflections of the city around them, when the stranger spoke again. “It’s time,” he said, sounding sad. Kuroo looked up, seeing that the other man was rapidly vanishing, becoming a reflection of the city behind him, similar to the river next to him. “Wait,” Kuroo said, reluctant to let him go, fear suddenly filling him. “Please don’t go.” But it was too late.

~~~~

Akaashi felt heavy and uncertain. Only days ago he was convinced on his path in life, refused to look back, having accepted the fate he was told. Now, uncertainty rested like a weight on his shoulders. As he disappeared, he thought about his companion, how unsure of himself he seemed, how scared for Akaashi he was, and how determined he was to save someone who tried to keep him away. He wished he could have told the man more.

~~~~

The novelty began to wear off. Kuroo woke up in his bathtub, began to piece together the events of last night as he set about preparing for his day. He went to class, managed to jot down enough notes that he felt partially confident he wouldn’t bomb the next exam. He made his way to practice, early again, and helped Sugawara set up the court. 

He felt himself let go, drop any worries he had with every time he hit the ball, every block, every sharp grin sent across the court, mocking but still warm, content. After practice, Sawamura pulled him aside, and Kuroo wondered if this was some sort of trend, to confront him on emotions he couldn’t vocalize. “You were really out of it the last few days.” Kuroo nodded. “You don’t have to talk about it, but the team is here for you if something is going on,” Sawamura concluded. Kuroo smiled wryly. “I’ve got Kenma too.” Sawamura nodded sagely. “Thank you,” Kuroo said, giving a short wave before exiting the gym.

He followed the same path, to the same bridge. He approached the same stranger who sat on the same railing. The same feeling of apprehension filled his heart. This time, the stranger spoke first. “I’ll tell you everything I know,” he said. Kuroo nodded, leaning on the railing. “Can I ask you a hypothetical question?” the stranger continued.

“If I told you that what’s happening goes beyond the physical world, would you believe me?” the stranger asked. “That’s oddly specific,” Kuroo noted. “So what you’re asking is do I believe this could be magic?” The stranger sighed, but nodded. “Technically speaking, yes,” he confirmed. Kuroo shrugged. “It’s as good an explanation as any,” he said. 

The stranger took a deep breath and let it out. “Technically, we’re in a time loop.” He didn’t beat around the bush; instead, he looked Kuroo in the eye. Kuroo blinked, willing himself to focus on the stranger’s words instead of his face. “So basically this is gonna keep repeating over and over?” he questioned. The stranger nodded. “Yes, until something happens that breaks the loop.” 

Kuroo nodded. “Okay, so what happens if we break the loop?” he questioned. “I’m not quite sure, though I assume-” Kuroo frowned, cutting him off. “If you say that you’re gonna die I swear to god,” he said, and the stranger raised an eyebrow, though he smiled briefly. “Okay,” he said, and Kuroo smiled too. “So, what you’re saying is that if we break the loop there’s a chance you’ll survive,” Kuroo supplied, and the stranger opened his mouth, most likely to refute, before closing it. He smiled again, but this one lasted a bit longer. It was stunning.

Silence spread between them, but Kuroo felt a bit more confident, a bit less worried, a bit less scared. He opened his mouth after a bit. “Why is this happening?” he asked, unsure if his companion knew the answer. “It’s my fault,” came the simple response. Kuroo didn’t push him. 

A few minutes of Kuroo’s mind running through possibilities later, the other man sighed deeply. “It’s hard to explain,” he said, and Kuroo raised an eyebrow. “You’re a wizard,” he stated, and his companion sighed. “I’m a mage, yes. I specialize in light magic. I don’t know why, exactly, this happened.” Kuroo nodded in acknowledgement. “Huh,” he said, unsure of what response to give.

Kuroo pulled out his phone. 11:46. He wasn’t sure how time passed so quickly when he was here at the bridge. Because of the time loop? He sighed. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this,” he heard, soft and unsure. Kuroo looked up at his companion, who seemed sad, even scared. Kuroo tried to give a reassuring smile. “It’ll be okay,” he said, and relief was easily seen on the other man’s face, in how he relaxed.

They waited a few moments. “It’s time,” his companion said, and Kuroo looked up at him. “Yeah,” he said, regretful, apprehension and nervousness apparating as a pain in his chest. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, and his companion nodded, fading away into the night.

~~~~

Akaashi wanted to see his companion tomorrow. He wanted to know more about him, anything. In his final moments, he wished to know the man’s name.

~~~~

Kuroo visited Kenma that morning. He sat down on the couch of Kenma’s apartment as Kenma trudged out of his room, fixing Kuroo with a tired glare. Kuroo smiled with affection. Kenma collapsed next to Kuroo, not saying anything, and Kuroo sighed.

“If I told you I was stuck in a time loop with a guy who fades out of existence at midnight, would you believe me?” Kenma blinked at him. “That’s an odd question,” he said. Kuroo sighed. “I don’t know what to do,” he groaned. “How do I handle this? I’m not a wizard.” Kenma reached out a hand, rested it on Kuroo’s shoulder. “I feel helpless, Kenma,” Kuroo continued.

Kenma reached for the remote of the old TV he had. Kuroo smiled wryly. “If we’re gonna play games, can we play Mario Kart?” he asked. “You only want to play because you can win,” Kenma mumbled, but he obliged. Kenma was silent when he played the game; Kuroo was not, his play style full of unnecessary expletives and complaining. 

Unusual for Kenma was the fact that he left the game right before they tackled Rainbow Road, turning to Kuroo. “The person you’re stuck with, is he a mage?” he asked, and Kuroo frowned before nodding. “Yeah, he is, why?” Kenma didn’t respond for a few moments. “What type of mage?” he asked, and Kuroo hummed. “Light mage, I think,” he replied. “That’s odd,” Kenma said. “There’s no explanation for the loop, then.”

Kuroo groaned. “I know, that’s the problem,” he griped. Kenma only turned the game on again. Kuroo lost himself in Rainbow Road. He also lost at Rainbow Road, complaining at Kenma’s victory, though there was no real bitterness in his voice or in his mind. He looked to Kenma, who was spending an unusual amount of time tallying the scores. He felt like he was missing something, that he should have realized something obvious, but he just couldn’t figure out what. 

Kenma ripped off the paper before folding it. “I won,” he said. “Give this to your mage friend,” he continued, pressing the folded paper into Kuroo’s hands. Kuroo frowned. “Yeah, okay,” he said. “You sure do know a lot about magic,” he said, planning on teasing Kenma a bit about his magic themed video games. Kenma reached a hand out to the television, which flickered slowly before turning to black.

Kuroo blinked slowly, still trying to comprehend what he saw. “You’re a mage,” he managed, confused and shocked. Kenma nodded. “Is anyone else I know a mage?” Kuroo questioned. Kenma nodded again. “Who?” Kenma sighed. “They’ll tell you if they want to,” he chided, and Kuroo nodded. “Oh, right. Thanks, Kenma.” Kenma nodded before going to retrieve his handheld. “You’ll be late for practice,” he reminded, and Kuroo blinked. “Right, thanks. See ya!” he exclaimed before dashing out of Kenma’s apartment.

Practice went smoothly. Kuroo lost himself in the sport, though every break made him contemplate what Kenma had shown him more and more. His thoughts wandered to the folded piece of paper in his bag. Bokuto stopped him on his way out, leaning close. “You look like you found out a secret,” he said, conspiratorially. Kuroo winked, before slipping out the gym doors with Bokuto’s indignant squawks behind him.

The route the the bridge felt like the road home, Kuroo thought, before chastising himself on trying to apply poetic nonsense to everything. “Hey,” he said, approaching the man perched on the railing. “Hello,” came the reply, coupled with a small smile. Kuroo blinked a bit, his mind blank. Frowning, he tried to remember what he was going to say. “Is something wrong?” his companion asked. Kuroo shook his head, before his eyes widened. “Hang on,” he said. “I’ve got something for you.”

While Kuroo rummaged through his bag, which was almost always a mess, he heard a sigh from above him. “Ah, I was wondering,” the stranger, who was closer to an acquaintance, began. “Maybe we should, uh, get to know each other?” It sounded unsure. Kuroo looked up at him and smiled briefly. “What is it you want to know?” he said, still on the hunt for the folded paper Kenma had given him.

“Well, I suppose, your name would be a good start?” It was said in the same quiet, lilting tone, and Kuroo grinned again. “Kuroo,” he said, not looking up. “Kuroo Tetsurou?” his companion asked, and Kuroo’s head shot up. “How’d you know that?” he questioned, and the man looked taken aback. “Ah, Bokuto-san talks about you sometimes,” he confessed, and Kuroo blinked. “Bo? How do you know him?” he asked, and the other man sighed. “We’ve been friends for a while.” Kuroo frowned, trying to piece things together. 

“Wait,” he said. “Bo probably talked about you before.” The man waited patiently as Kuroo tried to mull over every conversation Kuroo had ever had with Bokuto. As if sensing it, the man sighed. “My name is Akaashi,” he said. Kuroo blinked at him. “The Akaashi?” he asked, shocked. Akaashi nodded. “If the Akaashi refers to Akaashi Keiji, then yes,” he confirmed. “You mean ‘I can’t believe Akaashi is my friend because he’s better than me at everything’ Akaashi?” Kuroo continued. Akaashi blinked. “Did Bokuto-san really say that?” he asked, and Kuroo nodded.

Another silence spread between them, as Kuroo tried to comprehend the fact that out of all the ways he could have met Bokuto’s ‘other best friend’ (“because there’s no way I could choose between you!”) this was how. Frowning, he managed to say “does that make Bokuto a mage?” Akaashi nodded. “You could have asked him,” he teased, and Kuroo frowned. “When? I didn’t even know magic existed until 5 days ago,” he said, and Akaashi sighed. “I can’t believe both of my best friends are mages and I didn’t even know it,” he griped, and Akaashi frowned. “Both?” he questioned.

Kuroo nodded, suddenly reminded of why he was going through his bag. “Yeah. Kenma, my other best friend, has a note for you, let me just find it,” he said, searching through all his pockets, only to find the note on the very outside one, next to his spare change. He passed it to Akaashi, who opened it up and frowned at the contents, before his face softened.

“What’s it say?” Kuroo questioned, and Akaashi smiled. “It says to be careful because you’re sensitive,” he replied, and Kuroo squinted at him. “I’m not that sensitive,” Kuroo pouted, and Akaashi raised an eyebrow. “You’ve gotten awfully upset when I’ve seen you,” he reminded, and Kuroo gave him a blank stare. “Why do you think that is?” he snarked, and Akaashi sighed. “Right, I’m sorry,” he said, and Kuroo relaxed a bit. “It’s okay,” he said.

“Thank you,” he said, and Kuroo looked up to find that Akaashi was fading, again. He felt sadness, the urge to reach out and try to cling to Akaashi, keep him there for a little longer, talk to him a bit more. But Akaashi was already gone.

~~~~

Akaashi thought about how Kuroo acted when he wasn’t distressed, how he looked when he was relaxed. He wondered if that’s how he was like around other people, people he wasn’t forced to be around by magic. He wondered if they knew how lucky they were.

He wished to get to know Kuroo more.

~~~~

Kuroo settled into a routine at that point. He got up, cleaned himself up, went to class. On the days he didn’t have class, he would sometimes visit Kenma, sometimes Bokuto, or Yaku (though Yaku didn’t let him stay for very long). He visited Bokuto the morning after he fully introduced himself, throwing Bokuto’s door open and declaring, to a half asleep Bokuto, that he knew about his magic. Bokuto just blinked at him.

“I thought Kenma promised not to tell,” was Bokuto’s grumpy response. “Kenma didn’t tell me,” Kuroo said. “Akaashi did, kind of.” Bokuto frowned for a second, before his eyes widened. “You met Akaashi? Like, Akaashi Keiji?” Kuroo frowned at him. “No, Bo, Akaashi the mailman. Yes, Akaashi Keiji.” Bokuto’s eyes widened. “Do you like him?” he asked. Kuroo nodded. “More or less, yeah,” he said. “Does he like you?” Bokuto continued. Kuroo stared at him. “I don’t know, Bo. It’s not like I can read minds.”

 

At 3 PM every day, Kuroo would go to volleyball practice. His teammates noted that he seemed more content. “You’ve gone back to being an ass,” Yaku would grumble. “I’m glad you seem to have it more together,” Sawamura would say. Kuroo would nod at them, thank Sawamura or mock Yaku, before leaving, following the same path to a cobblestone bridge, where Akaashi was waiting.

On the 6th and 7th days, Kuroo asked Akaashi questions about himself, throwaway trivia that made him feel closer to him, somehow. 

“What’s your favorite color?” “Blue.”

“Do you like ice cream?” “Yes.” “What’s your favorite?” “Chocolate.” “Vanilla is better.” “Keep dreaming.”

“What’s your favorite breakfast cereal?” “I don’t eat breakfast cereal.” “I’m stunned.”

“Do you have any hobbies?” “I like to cook. And garden.” “Is that why you don’t like cereal?” “No, it just tastes like cardboard.”

Akaashi would ask him questions too.

“What’s your favorite food?” “Grilled salted mackerel pike.” “I would make you some except we’re on a bridge.” “Well, you are a light mage. Can’t you grill it here?” “And where would you get the fish?” “I’ll go to the riverbank and catch it with my bare hands.” “Mackerel live in the ocean.” “Akaashi stop ruining my fun.” “I doubt it’d be very fun to catch fish with your bare hands, Kuroo-san.”

“If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be?” “To the ocean so I can catch mackerel.” “Kuroo-san…”

“What’s your favorite color?” “I already asked you that one!” “I didn’t know there was a rule about that. That’s unfair.” “It’s red.”

Kuroo was still afraid when Akaashi began to disappear.

~~~~

Akaashi liked talking with Kuroo. His attitude was different than anyone else Akaashi had met, although it was perhaps how much he liked to tease Akaashi.

Akaashi wished to talk to Kuroo about something other than mackerel and cereal and ice cream.

~~~~

Kuroo spend days 8 and 9 telling Akaashi awful puns.  
“Akaashi, how many birds does it take to screw in a lightbulb?” “How many?” “Not one but toucan!” “Kuroo-san…” 

“What does a star have in common with a gun?” “What?” “They both can shoot!”

How many-” “Kuroo-san that’s enough puns.” “But you like them!” “Kuroo-san…” “Fine.”

Two minutes later: “You never said you didn’t like my puns.” “Kuroo-san, please don’t start again.” 

A minute: “I’m sorry. I just get sad when you start to disappear.” Kuroo felt guilty immediately after saying it. Akaashi sighed and rested a hand on Kuroo’s head. “I’ll be back tomorrow,” he assured, and Kuroo smiled, feeling a bit better, even as Akaashi faded away again.

~~~~

Akaashi wanted to make good on his reassurance. He didn’t want Kuroo to mirror the same behavior he had when they first met. He wished he could be there for Kuroo, and pat his head, and bicker with Kuroo about his awful, awful jokes.

~~~~

The 10th day through the 16th day carried on much in the same fashion. Akaashi grew a bit more vocal, a bit more exasperated, but he smiled more. Every time he smiled Kuroo felt a bit more accomplished, a bit happier. It was beautiful, it really was.

On the 17th day Akaashi asked Kuroo about volleyball. “Bokuto-san was never very good at explaining,” he said, and Kuroo laughed. “Was it the sound effects?” he asked, and Akaashi sighed wearily and nodded. “Okay, so whoosh means you jump, kaboom means you hit a spike, pow means you got blocked-” Akaashi cut him off. “Sorry for the interruption, but please, not you too.” Kuroo cackled. “Okay, okay. So there’s four positions…”

Hours later, Kuroo concluded his lesson with a simple, “and that’s a basic recap of volleyball.” Akaashi blinked at him. “Kuroo-san, it’s been three hours.” Kuroo looked at his phone. 11:26 PM. “Oh, so it has.” Akaashi smiled briefly. “You’re quite passionate about it,” he said, and Kuroo grinned, leaning against the railing. “I’d like to do it as a profession,” he confessed, “but I’m nowhere near as good as Bokuto or Oikawa.” Akaashi rested a hand on Kuroo’s head. “I’m sure you can accomplish it,” he said, and Kuroo looked up at him. 

Akaashi began to fade. Kuroo blinked back tears. Akaashi gave him a sad smile before he vanished.

~~~~

Akaashi felt helpless to stop the time loop. He didn’t think he’d be this motivated to, but here he was, wishing it would end, that he could spend time with Kuroo away from a bridge in the middle of the night.

~~~~

Day 18 was a more in depth explanations of volleyball. Sometimes Akaashi would look at Kuroo blankly, obviously not understanding, and Kuroo would smile. “Where did I lose you?” he would ask, and Akaashi would frown, listing a detail Kuroo had to backtrack to. “Sorry,” he would say, embarrassed, and Akaashi would disguise a smile as a sigh. “It’s fine,” he would say. “I’m glad you’re so invested in your passion.” Kuroo would grin at him.

Days 19 and 20 were Kuroo recounting his experiences playing volleyball. He would describe his teammates, how Oikawa was a bit of an ass, but so was he, and they got along great. Akaashi would frown then. “Don’t say that about yourself,” he would chide, and Kuroo would raise an eyebrow. “No use denying the truth, he would say, and Akaashi would sigh.

He would talk about Sawamura Daichi, how he had a crush on the most timid member of their team, Asahi. He would talk about Sugawara, who Oikawa fawned over. He mentioned Iwaizumi, and Akaashi sighed. “He’s the one Bokuto-san is smitten with,” he would say, and Kuroo would laugh. “You have no idea how many times Bokuto tries to carry him around, or just be close to him. Typically Iwa-chan, sorry, Iwaizumi, would be grumpy about it, but get this; Iwaizumi is just as smitten. It’s a mess.” Akaashi would cover his mouth with his hand, the picture of disappointment if it wasn’t for the amused shine in his eyes. 

Kuroo wanted to make Akaashi laugh for real.

Day 21 was spent talking about Kuroo’s past, how he’d loved volleyball since he was a kid, how he used to draw himself as a star volleyball player and his family would hang them up on the fridge. “Do you still have them?” Akaashi asked, and Kuroo could feel his face heating up. “You should show me,” Akaashi teased, and Kuroo really was blushing, now. “Not a chance in hell,” he exclaimed, and Akaashi laughed behind his hand again.

He talked about how he lost his front baby teeth because of a volleyball to the face. Akaashi kept his face blank, but Kuroo could tell he was hiding his amusement. “Stop laughing at me,” he grumbled, and Akaashi would smile very slightly. “But it’s cute when you’re flustered,” he said, almost to himself, and Kuroo would flush bright red and hide his face in his crossed arms. 

“You know, one day, I’d like it if you’d teach me how to play volleyball,” Akaashi said, and Kuroo was sure he had misheard. Looking up to Akaashi, the other man didn’t meet his eye. “I’d like that too,” Kuroo said, quietly.

~~~~

Akaashi really did think Kuroo was cute when he blushed, the way his ears flushed red and his smile turned shy, almost uncertain. He thought about how confused Kuroo was when Akaashi asked him to teach him to play, how Akaashi could almost feel the happiness radiating off of Kuroo.

He chastised himself for being sappy, but he wished he could see Kuroo blush again.

~~~~

On day 28, Akaashi decided to share his own past, to Kuroo’s surprise and delight. Akaashi explained how he picked up cooking from spending time with his parents in the kitchen, how he learned to measure out spices. He told Kuroo how his family shared recipes, each person adding their own twist onto the recipe until it became something entirely different. 

“Couldn’t two people add ingredients that cancel each other out?” Kuroo had said, and Akaashi frowned. “I suppose you’re right, but considering how much my mother liked spicy food, I find it unlikely.” Kuroo couldn’t help but laugh, and Akaashi frowned at him. “You just seemed so serious about it,” Kuroo explained. Akaashi raised an eyebrow. “I’d like you to cook for me sometime,” Kuroo said. “I’d like to. I think of it as payment for teaching me volleyball.” Kuroo laughed. “You don’t have to pay me back for something I want to do,” he laughed, and he was sure he was imagining the red tint on Akaashi’s ears.

On days 29 and 30, Akaashi shared his cooking tips and his favorite recipes. Kuroo didn’t even know what half the ingredients were, let alone how to cook with them, but Akaashi looked so focused, so passionate, that Kuroo listened anyway, entranced by the happiness in Akaashi’s voice.

“What are your thoughts?” Akaashi had asked, and Kuroo had blinked at him. “I don’t know shit,” he said, and Akaashi’s eyes widened. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked. “I must have bored you.” Kuroo smirked. “No, you were cute when you were talking about it. I could listen to you all day,” he said, immediately feeling the urge to bury his face in his arms because he was pretty sure it was impossible to be more embarrassing. 

“I’m glad,” Akaashi said, resting his hand on Kuroo’s head. “It’s nice of you to be so kind and supportive,” he added, so quietly Kuroo almost didn’t hear him. He flushed again. He was typically good at taking compliments. Why did Akaashi fluster him so much? He knew why. He had a crush, not that he would ever admit it. Akaashi patted his head. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Akaashi said, and Kuroo looked up just long enough to see Akaashi give a slight wave before disappearing.

~~~~

Akaashi thought of how Kuroo grinned, how Kuroo got flustered at compliments. Most of all, he thought of how Kuroo would give everything away without asking for anything in return.

Akaashi wanted to cook for Kuroo. He wished he could.

~~~~

Days 33-35 were more questions, more teasing, more flirting, or so Kuroo liked to believe. Akaashi started the conversation like he normally did.

“How are you today?” “I’m good now that I can see you.” “How charming. You’ve made my day.” A few moments of silence. “You’re blushing, Kuroo-san.”

“Do you like strawberry syrup?” “Yes, I think it’s good.” “I’m disowning you, Kuroo-san.”

Akaashi smiled more; brief, fleeting smiles that wouldn’t be noticed if Kuroo wasn’t looking for them. He looked sad whenever he faded away, mournful, regretful. Kuroo reached out to him every so often, but it was too late. Akaashi always slipped away, leaving Kuroo lonely, empty, miserable.

On Day 36, the emotions Kuroo had been repressing all spilled out. He dropped onto the railing, pressing his head into his crossed arms, trying to hide from the world. “What’s wrong, Kuroo-san?” Akaashi asked, and Kuroo groaned, pulling his head up so he could speak clearly. 

“I wish things weren’t like this,” he said. “I wish I could talk to you anywhere except a bridge. I wish I wasn’t so scared all the time, so scared for you and me. I wish that I could talk to you without worrying about whether or not you’d be here tomorrow, whether or not the time loop broke and I’d never see you again. I’m so scared, Akaashi. I’m scared of what might happen to you. I feel so helpless.”

Kuroo dropped his head onto his arms afterwards, embarrassed and ashamed of his outburst. He felt Akaashi rest his hand on Kuroo’s head, before gently combing his fingers through his hair. He sighed, feeling his eyes fill with tears. Akaashi pulled him closer, until his head was resting on Akaashi’s thighs. It felt close, intimate, and in other circumstances Kuroo would be alight with embarrassment and joy, but now he just pulled closer, wanting to keep Akaashi there as long as he could before Akaashi disappeared again.

“Do you remember what you told me?” Akaashi said. “You’ve told me a lot of things,” Kuroo grumbled in response. “You told me that if the loop broke, then I wouldn’t have to stay here, I’d be free to live my life. You don’t understand what that meant to me. It’s going to be okay, I promise.” 

Kuroo nodded, briefly soothed. His eyelids felt heavy and Akaashi was comfortable, was comforting. Akaashi tapped his face lightly. “Kuroo-san, you can’t fall asleep here,” he chided, and Kuroo sighed and got up, draping himself over the railing. Akaashi gently ran his hand through Kuroo’s hair, letting out a soft sigh. “Kuroo-san,” he said, “I promise I’ll see you tomorrow.” Kuroo nodded, still sad but somehow more hopeful.

~~~~

Akaashi was sad. He was shocked, confused by Kuroo’s words. He wanted nothing more than to protect him from sadness, show him how much he meant to Akaashi. You have a crush, Akaashi said to himself, and Akaashi didn’t deny it. He had tried, before Kuroo got there, to hop down from the railing. He felt himself fading in seconds, feeling helpless when he climbed back up.

Akaashi wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around Kuroo, cradle his face in his hands and run his hands through his hair, to be able to be close to Kuroo, hug him, hold him. To kiss him, he thought, before pushing it out of his mind.

~~~~

It was day 45 when Kuroo finally saw Akaashi’s magic. He had almost forgotten about it, but when he stared down at the distorted light reflecting off the river, a light he’d never seen before drifted over. Looking up, he found himself face to face with a butterfly, more vibrant than any one he had ever seen. He frowned, before looking to Akaashi to ask if he was seeing it too. 

Akaashi was smiling, really smiling. It was stunning, gorgeous, and Kuroo thought he could never get enough of looking at it. Akaashi blinked a few times. “Oh, sorry,” he said, sheepishly. “I got lost in thought.” Kuroo smiled. “Is that your magic?” he asked, and Akaashi nodded. “It’s really beautiful,” Kuroo said, watching the butterfly flit across the sky, before landing on his nose. Kuroo went cross eyed trying to see it. Akaashi’s shoulders shook in stifled laughter. Kuroo glared at him, but there was no heat in it, instead, he was transfixed by how Akaashi looked. 

Kuroo held a hand up to his nose, watching the butterfly as it gently walked onto his index finger. He brought it over to Akaashi, reaching up on his tiptoes to deposit it onto Akaashi’s temple. Akaashi looked at him in confusion. Kuroo smiled, amazed and adoring, and Akaashi smiled too “You’re really pretty, you know that, right?” Kuroo said, before burying his face in his hands. He cursed himself for having such poor impulse control when he was flustered.

Slowly, the butterfly began to unravel, signifying the end of the day, that Akaashi would be leaving soon. Kuroo watched it, feeling loss even at a butterfly made of light. Akaashi brushed a hand on his shoulder, over his cheek. He didn’t say anything, but he gave Kuroo a reassuring smile, a silent promise. 

~~~~

Kuroo was stunning. Kuroo might have called him pretty, and it might have (read: definitely) made his heart race, but Kuroo was gorgeous. The way his eyes lit up when he saw even the simplest of magic, the way he looked at Akaashi with nothing but awe and happiness. The way he so desperately wanted Akaashi to be okay, how he feared for him as Akaashi should fear for himself. It was all beautiful. Akaashi wanted to capture it all, hold it in his heart, protect Kuroo’s smile, his laugh, everything.

He wished that Kuroo could be happy; that the fear of Akaashi vanishing for good disappeared.

~~~~

On day 48, on his way to the bridge, Oikawa stopped him. “Tetsu-kun,” he said. “Tell me about your crush.” Kuroo frowned. “Pardon me?” he choked out, and Oikawa grinned in victory. “You always leave the gym as quickly as possible. You have the look of a lovestruck man. Tell me about the lucky guy.” “You’re quite the romantic,” Kuroo mocked. “Or the unlucky guy,” Oikawa concluded.

Kuroo sighed. “He’s...great. Wonderful. I don’t think he’d talk to me if...if there weren’t circumstances.” Oikawa smirked. “Ah yes, the time loop. Bokuto told me about that.” Kuroo groaned. “Why would he tell you of all people?” he griped. “Probably because I’m the other mage on the team,” Oikawa said, and Kuroo groaned again. “I’m surrounded by mages,” he complained. Oikawa raised an eyebrow. “You sure aren’t complaining about A~ka~a~shi” he teased, and Kuroo gave him a glare. “Yeah that’s because he’s cute and talented and you’re a hot mess who lives on garbage,” Kuroo sniped. Oikawa gasped. “I’m telling Kenma,” he declared. “Okay,” Kuroo said.

Akaashi sighed, his shoulders relaxing when he heard Kuroo approach. “You’re later than usual,” he remarked, and Kuroo sighed. “I had a nice conversation with Oikawa,” he explained. “He’s another mage.” Akaashi nodded. “Oikawa Tooru, right? He’s a water mage.” Kuroo raised an eyebrow. “You knew this and you didn’t tell me?” Kuroo said, defensively. Akaashi sighed. “It’s not my place, Kuroo-san,” he said, and Kuroo nodded. “I know, I’m sorry for getting frustrated,” Kuroo said, almost embarrassed. 

Akaashi ran his hand through Kuroo’s hair. “It’s alright. You don’t know much about magic, do you?” Kuroo shook his head. “I don’t know anything about it,” he confessed. “I guess I’ll explain,” Akaashi said, and Kuroo smiled gratefully.  
“Magic is a manifestation of someone’s emotions. It grows stronger when someone has more positive emotions, and weaker when someone has more negative emotions.” Kuroo nodded. “Theoretically, anyone can become a mage. All you have to do is learn to physically manifest your emotions. However, it’s easier if you have a teacher.” Kuroo nodded. “You’re strong, right? Doesn’t that mean you have a lot of positive emotions?” Akaashi nodded. “I just don’t understand why,” Kuroo continued. “Aren’t you scared of what happens, what’s happening?” He frowned, wondering why Akaashi managed to stay positive while Kuroo felt fear and loss every time Akaashi faded away. Why he felt helpless and lonely and small, insignificant, unable to even stop the loop.

“You burden yourself too much,” Akaashi said. “You believe you should be able to fix everything. I trust you to help me, but I worry because of how you feel. You’re a good person, Kuroo-san. Brilliant and kind. I like being around you. You make me happy, even if it’s just for a little bit.”

Kuroo stood, shocked at Akaashi’s words. Akaashi looked away, clenched his fists. Kuroo leaned against his thigh, smiled when Akaashi decided to pet his hair. “You like playing with my hair,” he said, and Akaashi hummed. “It’s very soft, for bedhead,” he explained, and Kuroo frowned. “I don’t recall telling you it’s bedhead,” he complained. “Bokuto-san has told be about you,” Akaashi explained, and Kuroo frowned. “He could have at least mentioned flattering things,” he grumbled, and Akaashi laughed, really laughed. Kuroo could listen to it forever.

When Akaashi faded away, Kuroo finally let himself believe that, without a doubt, Akaashi would be back tomorrow.

~~~~

Akaashi thought back on what he said. He wondered if it could serve as a confession. Kuroo seemed to like him, and Akaashi could only hope that the feelings Kuroo felt for him extended past friendship. He had fallen too hard.

Akaashi wished he had the courage to tell Kuroo his feelings, honestly, instead of hiding them behind teasing and explanations.

~~~~

It was day 53 when Kuroo resolved himself to confessing his feelings. It was day 54 when he decided he would do it tomorrow. It was day 55 when he finally decided to stop dallying and just do it.

Kuroo made his way along the cobblestone bridge, taking deep breaths. Akaashi looked at him, smiled briefly when he saw Kuroo approaching. Kuroo wondered if he was about to ruin everything. Drawing close, he took one last breath. Akaashi seemed a bit concerned. “Akaashi, I need to talk to you,” Kuroo said, his voice strangled. Akaashi sighed. “I have to talk to you too,” Akaashi said, suddenly looking apprehensive. Kuroo nodded. “Go ahead then, I’m gonna need a moment.” Akaashi nodded.

After a taking a deep breath, Akaashi spoke. “Kuroo-san, if things had been different…” he began, before covering his mouth with his hand, looking away from Kuroo for a second. After seemingly gathering up his resolve, he turned his head to look at Kuroo. “Kuroo-san, if things had been different, do you think we could have been lovers?” Kuroo blinked at him, shocked. 

Akaashi seemed to take the silence as rejection, blinking rapidly that suggested he was trying not to cry. That startled Kuroo out of his daze. He cleared his throat. “Well,” he said, “if things had been different, would you have wanted to be lovers?” Akaashi looked at the river below them. He sighed. “Yes, I think I would have.” Kuroo blinked in shock. Gathering his composure, he managed a “yes, I we could have been.” Akaashi looked at him, unusually reticent. He swallowed. “Is that a confession?” he asked, and Kuroo smiled. “Yeah, it is.”

Akaashi smiled, sadness still showing, as if he was mourning a relationship he never had. Kuroo smiled gently. “You know, it’s hard, but we still can. If you want,” he said, apprehensive. Akaashi didn’t respond, blinking a bit before tears rolled down his face. “Akaashi? Are you okay?” Kuroo asked, suddenly scared. Akaashi nodded. “I’m just happy. Overjoyed,” he said, his voice thick. Kuroo grinned, halfway to tears as well. “Me too,” he said, resting his head on Akaashi’s thigh. 

They stayed like that for a while, not speaking, the silence charged not with fear or sadness but with happiness, with joy. It was intoxicating. Even when Akaashi started to disappear, the fear Kuroo felt was still mixed with happiness, with joy. 

“Goodnight Kuroo-san.”  
“Goodnight Akaashi.”

~~~~

Akaashi was stunned, was overjoyed. Everything felt right for once, as if his life had finally fell into place. He thought about the way Kuroo looked, his smile wider that it had ever been, breathless and shining brighter than Akaashi’s strongest magic. Akaashi wondered how he had missed it before. He wondered if he had ignored the signs as Kuroo being easily flustered (read: he had).

Akaashi wanted to spend more time with Kuroo. He wished to spend more time with what? His lover? His boyfriend? His partner? All of the above?

~~~~

It was day 63 when Kuroo tried to convince Akaashi to stop using the honorific. “We’re dating,” he said. “There’s no need for the formality.” Akaashi nodded. “I’m aware,” he said. “But it feels natural to give my respect.” “You don’t need to,” Kuroo grumbled, and Akaashi sighed. 

“Does it bother you that much?” he questioned, and Kuroo’s head shot up. “No, of course not,” he said, nervous about having upset Akaashi. “I just, I’d like it, that’s all.” He flushed and looked away. He heard Akaashi laugh, no longer deciding to stifle it. “Does Tetsurou-san work?” he asked, and Kuroo felt his face heat up. He grinned. “Yeah, that’s okay,” he said. “I...thank you,” he continued. “For humoring my requests.” 

Akaashi laughed again. “You act like you asked me to give an arm for you. I really don’t mind.” Kuroo smiled again, happy, content. “I’m really glad I met you,” he said, and Akaashi ran a hand through Kuroo’s hair. “Me too,” he said. “You changed everything for me. I can’t thank you enough, I can’t do enough to make it up to you.” Kuroo laughed. “Didn’t I tell you you don’t have to repay me for things I want to do?” he teased, and Akaashi blushed. 

He began to fade, slowly disappearing. Kuroo felt sad, still regretting his disappearance.

“Goodnight Tetsurou-san,” Akaashi said, giving Kuroo a smile.  
“Goodnight Keiji,” he said, relishing the shock and happiness that crossed Akaashi’s face.

~~~~

Kuroo had said that Akaashi didn’t have to do anything for him, but Akaashi would

He wished he could give Kuroo the world. 

~~~~

It was day 70 when Kuroo finally got the courage to take Akaashi’s hand. He was too nervous to look at him, eyes trained on the river until Akaashi twined their fingers together. He looked up briefly, to see that Akaashi, his boyfriend’s, ears had turned bright pink, that he was smiling shyly. It brought a smile to Kuroo’s face. 

Akaashi bent down slightly, just enough to pull Kuroo’s hand up and give him a kiss on his knuckles. Kuroo flushed brightly, squeezing Akaashi’s hand tighter as he looked away. “So cute,” Akaashi teased, and Kuroo looked up at him. Akaashi smiled at him, and Kuroo smiled gently. “Thank you,” he said. “You’re really pretty.” Akaashi raised an eyebrow as Kuroo buried his face into his free arm. Why did he say so many embarrassing things?

“Tetsurou-san.” “Hmm?” “You told me that you wanted to play volleyball professionally, but you didn’t think you could do it. What do you want to do?” 

Kuroo hummed, “I want to go into linguistics,” he said, “because I like to talk.” Akaashi laughed. “I’m sure people will appreciate the puns,” he teased, and Kuroo grinned. “Do you want to hear some?” he asked, and Akaashi sighed. “Please, Tetsurou-san,” he said, and Kuroo grinned. “If you start with the puns I swear to god,” Akaashi warned. “Not tonight then,” he agreed, “but I’ll definitely tell you some other time.”  
“Keiji,” Kuroo asked. “Yes?” “What do you do, during the day?” Akaashi frowned. “Well, I suppose I spend most of my time reappearing,” he explained. “And you?” “Well I sleep til mid-morning, visit my friends or go to class, go to practice, and then come here.” “Do you get tired of the repetition?” Kuroo shrugged. “Not really. I’m...happy with my life.” “I’m glad,” Akaashi said. “You deserve to be happy.”

When Akaashi started to fade, he fave Kuroo one more kiss on his hand before smiling. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said. Kuroo grinned. “I look forward to it.”

~~~~

Akaashi was happy. Akaashi was overjoyed, could do nothing to calm his heart or keep the flush from his face, thinking about Kuroo, thinking about his boyfriend, how the sadness no longer took prominence in his face when Akaashi faded away.

Akaashi didn’t wish for anything. He was too focused on his lover, the way Kuroo smiled, and laughed, and looked starstruck when Akaashi kissed his knuckles, as if anything Akaashi did was perfect.

~~~~

On day 71, Akaashi wasn’t there. Kuroo looked for him along the bridge, calling his name desperately, while nothing responded except the faint echo of his voice. Kuroo dropped to his knees, stunned and scared and lonely, so lonely, as he thought, like a mantra, that Akaashi was gone, he had left, disappeared and never came back.

He spent hours there, his phone next to him, time ticking away, 8:30, 9:35, 10:40. With every minute that passed, Kuroo felt farther and farther away, choked up and distant, a mirror of how he felt at the very beginning. Everything was falling apart for him. He didn’t bother to move, even when the clock passed 11:15, 11:20. Even when everything had gone numb for him. He was helpless. He was alone.

~~~~

Akaashi woke up on the floor of his apartment, neglected and dusty. He sat up, willed his throbbing, aching headache to go away. He looked at the time on the clock, 8:45. A quick look through the window showed that it was 8:45 PM. He made his way to the bathroom, intent on cleaning himself up. Something important tugged at him, as if he desperately needed to do something.

Akaashi let the water run down his back, frowning as he tried to piece together his memories. They hit him all at once, thoughts of Kuroo, of bridges, of fading away and promises and that Kuroo didn’t know, probably thought he was gone for good. He rushed through his apartment, throwing on the nearest clean clothing he could find, pulling on his shoes even as he hopped to the door.  
He sprinted through the streets, which had grown dark, only lit by streetlights. He was out of breath as he made his way there, feeling the cramp in his side, but he couldn’t stop yet. He had to keep going. A quick look at the LED clock that blinked above a bank Akaashi didn’t know the name of told him it was 11:23 PM. Akaashi only tried to run faster.

He came to a cobblestone bridge, no longer able to run and he tripped over the uneven bath. He cursed the architecture of the city. Curled up against the side of the bridge, bag thrown in the middle of the path, sat a figure, huddled up against himself as if to protect himself from the world. He tried to call out to him, but it came out as a out of breath shout. 

It was enough, however, as a cautious, broken voice, hoarse from crying, called out. “Keiji?” Kuroo ventured, with barely a flicker of hope in his voice. “Hi,” Akaashi gasped out. “Sorry I’m late.” He crawled towards where Kuroo was sitting, who reached out to allow Akaashi to curl up against his side. They sat in silence for a bit.

“You were right,” is how Akaashi started the conversation. “When the loop is broken, I returned to my normal life.” Kuroo smiled, but there was little joy in it. “Is that the end of this?” he questioned. “Things are different,” Akaashi said. Kuroo frowned. He blinked a few times, before the meaning of the words dawned on him. “Yeah, they are,” he said.

“You scared the shit out of me, you know,” Kuroo said after a few moments, and Akaashi sighed. “I know, I’m sorry,” he said, and Kuroo pressed a quick kiss to his temple. “It’s okay, provided you don’t do it again,” he said, and Akaashi let out a breath in relief. 

He gently slid out from under Kuroo’s arm to take Kuroo’s face into his hands. Kuroo blinked at him, before flushing. Akaashi kissed him, gentle, soft, almost reluctant. Kuroo seemed out of sorts, awestruck for a moment, before he leaned in for another kiss. It was still gentle, but less reluctant, less reticent. Kuroo smiled when he pulled away, kissing Akaashi’s cheek before resting his head on Akaashi’s shoulder.

“I’m glad you’re alright,” he mumbled. “Me too,” Akaashi replied. “And I’m sorry.” Kuroo frowned against his shoulder. “For what?” came his muffled reply. “For putting you through this.” Kuroo frowned. “New rule,” he said. “Don’t apologize for things I chose to do.” Akaashi nodded, pressing a kiss to Kuroo’s lips. 

He wished he could stay like this forever.

**Author's Note:**

> fun fact: this is the longest fic i think i've ever written


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